Cries could be heard from the other side of the door. Eight year old B leaned back against the wall, listening to seven year old A's sobs. They were anguished. Something tugged at B's heart. He couldn't bring himself to stand here and do nothing. His knuckles rapped at the door lightly, tapping.
"Adrienne?" he inquired through the door.
Suddenly, the crying ceased. Sniffles were stifled. An unspoken lie... B rattled the doorknob, it was locked. Frowning, B shoved a tension pin in the lock and then opened the door slowly.
In the dark corner, A sat, his face hidden by his hands. B crouched in front of A and peeled his hands away from his face.
"Hey there Adrienne... What's wrong?"
"Nothing..."
B's eyes were a clear gray when they were so close to A. Like a stormy sea or sky. He could see into them, they weren't black like he had always perceived.
"You can talk to me... You don't have to lie, Adrienne."
A wiped his nose on his wrist. Blood smeared on his face. B grabbed A's wrists and stared at the bloody mess that he had made on them.
"..."
Beyond gasped. "Adrienne, as long as I'm here, you'll have someone to talk to. You don't ever have to do this again..."
"I can't..." A stammered.
"Yes you can. Talk to me... Please Adrienne." B pulled A into a tight embrace. The first hug A had ever had. A's forehead fell onto B's shoulder.
"Promise you'll stay with me?" A pleaded.
"Of course." B replied.